


Ass Burglar: The Adventures Of A Rogue Called Poison

by GraveyardDisco



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Found Family, Heists, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, Team Bonding, fun with the lads, maybe a little bit cracky, no ones ass is burgled, only implied frerard, please dont misunderstand the title, rated teen for swearing and butt jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-16 11:56:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21507547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GraveyardDisco/pseuds/GraveyardDisco
Summary: Party Poison, infamous menace of the zones, gets it in his head that he can find anything.  He sets his sights on Tang, the pre-Crash orange drink powder. Poison decides if he can find this, than he really can find anything.So he decides to make a disguise to assist on his noble quest. Enter: Ass Burglar!
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 14
Kudos: 52





	Ass Burglar: The Adventures Of A Rogue Called Poison

Party Poison, perched on the planks of the rickety watchtower, peering against the harsh sun through the wind-weathered binoculars. The sand is too reflective of the overhead light, and it fucking hurts to look at. 

The horizon yields nothing new, so the binoculars join the scattered maps and do-dads in the rucksack. He throws the bag back over his shoulder, before climbing down the ladder, jumping the last step, and landing in the makeshift home. 

Well, home for now. He and Kobra will have to move again soon, meet up with Jet, find a new place to live, same old routine. 

As soon as Poison reaches the floor, he shouts for Kobra, “Hey Kobra! Your favorite brother has returned!”

He hears a muted response from what should the general vicinity of the garage, “You’re my only brother, fart face!” 

“But your favorite regardless!” he shouts back.

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’, you just said I’m your only brother!”

“Still not my favorite! Jet Star will be my brother now, so he can be my favorite.”

Poison drops the rucksack on the beaten up couch, sending up dust, then turning back towards the direction of the garage, “Fine then, I won’t tell you what I found,” he sing-songs the end. 

He hears a crash and a sliding noise, then the door slams open. “What did you find?” Kobra looks as intrigued as a brick wall, but his tone of voice says everything. 

“I found,” he draws it out for dramatic effect, “Nothing. The horizon is empty. But, we should move again soon.”

Kobra punches him in the arm, “Wow, thanks for scaring me like that, jerk.”

Poison shrugs, screwing up his face, “Well it got you out here, didn’t it? Anyways, pack up your shit, we’re going to be moving to a zone farther in. It’s time to bring back our old tricks again, spice things up a little.”

Kobra scoffs, “Excuse me? _Our_ old tricks? If I remember right, and I often do, it was just you in your “Butt Thief The Tang Snatcher” disguise terrorising people on your quest for juice.”

Poison gapes at him, dropping the bag. “First of all, bitch, it's Ass Burglar, the best code name anyone could ask for. And secondly,” he slams his hand down on the table (what should be for emphasis, but just hurts his hand), “ow- it's a very noble quest! I haven't found any Tang nor decent root beer out here yet, but I know there must be some.”

Poison turns to stare out the half-broken window with lost eyes, “I can find anything. It must be out there.”

Kobra snaps his fingers in front of Poison’s face, snapping him out of the momentary zoning. “Hate to break up whatever it is you and that window have got going on, but really? Code name? Isn't Party Poison your code name though?”

Poison spins around from the window, facing Kobra and crossing his arms. “It's the code name _for_ my code name! Besides, different outfit as well. The Great Party Poison can't be seen breaking into people's houses on a juice quest, after all.”

Kobra just flaps a hand at him, “Whatever, we should get our stuff and get going. I've got caravan errands I was thinking about running anyways.”

Poison fist-pumps the air, “Heck yeah! Tang time motherfucker!”

\------

Fun Ghoul has decided to have a quiet day in. Just him and his tools and the blueprints for bombs. The safehouse lit by a single flickering bulb and the sun through the slotted shutters. 

In a surprisingly calm day, with no disturbance, Ghoul might actually get to trade enough garbage away to wash his hair. How nice.

Ghoul looks up from his worn desk when he hears a crash and a muffled “shit” before his shuttered windows are thrown open and a colorful man falls through. The man stands up again quickly and strikes a pose. 

He makes a dramatic hand waving motion once he sees Ghoul, “It is I, the Ass Burglar! And I've-”

“Who the fuck are you? And what kind of a name is that? What, you here to steal my ass? _Oh take me now handsome stranger_.” Ghoul cuts him off in sarcasm, because seriously, this guy isn't intimidating, he's wearing tight and poofy pants. You can't be intimidating in pants like that. So much for a quiet day.

The man, _Ass Burglar_ , Ghoul’s brain supplies, sputters at that, and tries to regain some dignity by shouting, “I'm not here to burgle your ass! I'm just, a burglar in possession of a fine ass myself and I want to make that known,” he looks around the space quickly, taking in the messy floors and crowded desks, all full of various machine parts.

“What I'm really here for, is your Tang. Or root beer, that would be fine too.” the burglar nods at his own words, looking almost friendly.

“Why should I listen to you? You had trouble breaking into my building, I have doubt your skills in thievery are much better.” Ghoul is seriously three seconds from laughing.

The man, _Ass Burglar_ , his brain reminds him yet again, strikes a defiant pose. “I’m plenty skilled! And intimidating!”

“Says the man wearing a contradictory high collar and v-neck combo with the worst pants I've ever seen in my life?” Ghoul waves a hand at his whole getup pointedly, from the feathery orange and purple mask down to the oddly tall boots.

The Burglar sputters again, and then quickly runs off down a hallway in Ghoul’s building. Ghoul shakes his head and waits for the inevitable. 3… 2...

The Burglar runs back into the main room again, looking sheepish, weirdly familiar red hair flailing out. 

Ghoul raises an eyebrow at him “The kitchen is the other way.”

The man nods and runs down the opposite hallway. Minutes later Ghoul hears the slam of a door and a shout of “Why do you only have pisswater beer! Just pisswater beer and dog food! What the fuck!”

Ghoul shouts back, “Fuck you, I actually like pisswater beer!”

“Fine, I can respect that!” he comes back in the main room once more, “So you seem like a sensible man, what do you say to hearing of my tale! My quest! My journey!”

Ghoul waves a hand at him, “Sure man go ahead, I wasn't working or anything,”

“Great! Okay so it all started when-”

Ghoul tunes him out immediately and tries to think of where he recognises this guy. There's something about his hair, fuck, there's something about his ass. Ghoul reflects on those stupid weird tight-at-the-butt-loose-at-the-knee pants as The Burglar paces the room in his ramble. The guy has a right to be proud of his ass, Ghoul thinks.

“-And I decided to myself that anything could be found, and that nothing was ever truly lost, you know? So I got this idea in my head that I could actually find juice from before the crash, cause you know the powder doesn't go bad really-”

Goddamn the man can talk, Ghoul tunes him out again. But fuck, where does he know this guy from? Who else has bright red hair and an ass like that? Wait a minute, shit. Switch that outfit for something sensible and. Yeah. That's fucking Party Poison. What is a legend like him doing in Ghoul’s building? Looking for juice of all things? 

“Listen, Party Poison,” he cuts The Burglar off, and hears a small _but, but, my disguise?_ “Yeah I know it’s you, but man, what are you doing in my building.”  
“I just, I- did you not hear all of what I said? I just spent like, four minutes explaining why?” he looks flustered, picking at the seams of his gloves.

“Yeah buddy four minutes is too long. But yeah, that's not what I meant. Why are you, _Party Poison_ , breaking into people's spaces looking for juice?”

“Well, you see, that's what the disguise is for. I wanted to do that uninhibited by my obvious reputation. And it's a noble quest!” he crosses his arms, tapping the heel of his too-tall boot against the worn wood paneling.

“Yeah says the biggest martyr complex of the zones. I bet everything is a noble quest to you.”

“See this is exactly why! You're making assumptions because of my reputation! You just thought I was a normal guy before!”

“I thought you were a normal weirdo, now I know you're just a famous weirdo.”

“That's not- that's not fair! Okay now that you know my secret you have to help me on my quest. Or! I'll kill you so you don't tell. Them’s the breaks.”

 _Shit_ Ghoul thinks, this guy could actually take him out. His brain catches up with his words in an instant. Oh my god, this is _the_ Party Poison, part of the three powerful and reckless enough to take on Bli if they wanted to. Better watch your words, you idiot.

“Okay now that I know you can actually kill me, I think I'll take you up on that offer.”

Poison smiles, striding over to shake Ghoul’s hand before running back to the open window. 

“Farewell, my new comrade! I'll fetch you when I am in need of your services!” he gives a cheerful salute.

Ghoul snorts at a sudden thought. “Like a booty call? Get it?” _fuck that's a good pun! Ha, cause Ass Burglar... Wait shit I hope he doesn't kill me, did I overstep my bounds? So much for watching my words..._

“No! That's not- fuck! That's not what I meant!”  
Poison hurriedly jumps out the open window, with another crash and a muted shit, Ghoul assumes he has left. 

A Juice Quest? What. The. Fuck. Did he just get himself into.

\--------

“But you see, Jet Star, why would you want chunks in peanut butter? If I wanted those I could have mashed up some peanuts myself to put in there.”

Kobra Kid and Jet Star are sat on an outpost on the edge of Zone 2, in the middle of the most boring watch in the world. 

“Though Kobra, you do admit the texture is quite good, if desired. And I think it’s quite nice on crackers, for that extra crunch.”

Kobra waves his hands about, “But if you want crunch you can just use other things for that crunch, there's more possibilities open that way.”

Jet nods, “Yes okay I'll give you that. But sometimes it's better if the crunch comes from the peanut flavor itself, like a peanut times two combo.”

They're not yelling, it's not an argument of any sort, just a mature discussion between peers.

“Listen if you want some more flavors though, better crunch, pbj sandwich, potato chips in the center. Three layers of flavors.”

Jet Star mock-gasps, “I could tolerate your views on peanut butter but this is simply too much! We are simply too dissimilar to ever be friends!” there's an obvious air of joking to his tone, and Kobra plays along.

“Yeah well your opinions on romantic comedies are outrageous, and I'm appalled at the state of your filing cabinets. I don’t know how I could ever be friends with a person like you.”

“Oh Kobra, you wound me.”

They both collapse into giggles after that, neither able to keep up a straight face and keep the joke going.

"My dear Kobra, I am afraid I must put it as bluntly as I can, crunch or get the fuck out." Jet giggles like a child.

"Well, if that is how it will be, I suppose I should begin packing my bags." Kobra snickers.

\-------

“Okay team! Here's the plan!”

Poison (now in his normal getup again) taps the wall with a half broken pool cue, a rough sketch of the city scribbled on the surface. Kobra, Jet, and Ghoul are leaned on the opposite wall of the alley, some notable (Kobra) members grumbling quietly.

“So the first step will be that-”

“Yeah I'm going to have to stop you right there bro, who the _fuck_ is this zonerat?” Kobra says, jabbing a thumb in a concerned-looking Ghoul’s direction.

Poison waves him off, “That's the ass I've burgled, moving on!”

Poison taps at the wall again, circling a line with the pool cue again. “This! Is the east entrance! Where we will stage the attack! I managed to get some intel from Tommy before, uh, the root beer incident, and anyways, it seems to be the worst guarded gate, or at least, the most inconsistent guard schedule!”

Jet nods, seemingly taking mental notes, “Alright, so getting past the first wall, and I'm assuming the second? Are there going to be similar methods or do you have something planned?”

Poison frowns, “Okay so there isn’t a set plan per se, but i’m working on it. But yes, get through both walls, you and Kobra go to the tower control for that sector, me and Ghoul will go to the contraband storage and look there?”

Kobra shouts a quick “This is news to me!” before Poison cuts him off again.

“So we have to figure out how to get through the gate, but after that I think we're all set. Any ideas?”

Ghoul speaks up from the back, the first thing he's said since getting here, “Actually, I just might…”

\-----

“Hail! Who approaches the city?” shouts the taller of the two draculoids at the entrance of the gates, raising their guns.

The two approaching figures pause, sand weathered white uniforms and undefined pure black masks, pushing a large rolling box between them, setting the scene. 

“We’re from one of the neutral territories! We've found a deposit of a mineral we believe would prove useful to trade with the city.”

The dracs lower their guns and the taller speaks again, “A neutral territory? Which one?”

“We're from uh… the 8th division. Near the mountains.”

The dracs nod. “And the mineral you mentioned? What is it?”

The two figures nod as well, “Oh yes, it's called updog.”

The taller drac, despite not having a real face, seems to look confused. “What's updog?”

There's a snicker and the figures shout in unison, “I don't know! What's up with you!” and rush past while the last piece of human in the dracs leave them stunned. 

With hoots of laughter the duo sprint down the steps, wheeled box clanking, rubber soles squeaking, finally composing themselves at the bottom of the steps. 

Quietly the wheel themselves to the next gate, preparing for the same trick.

\------

As soon as Jet and Kobra step inside the doors of the east control tower, Poison and Ghoul burst from the wheeled box, stretching and smoothing out their wrinkled colorful clothes. 

Ghoul groans, rubbing his side. “Goddamn, could you have been more careful on those stairs? I think I now have more bruises than tattoos.” 

Ghoul is fearful for an instant, catching up to his words once more, but at no negative reaction from the others, just laughter, he relaxes. 

Jet pulls Kobra over to the other door, in the presumed direction of the control room. “Come on, Mr. Peanutbutter, time to work your magic.”

Poison pokes Ghoul’s side, unfortunately smack-dab in the middle of one of the bruises, “Hey, Ghoulboy, get yer mask on, cause it's time for phase two!”

Ghoul grumbles again, picking at the oversized and decidedly hideous jacket. “I still don't get why we have to wear these things. These pants make my ass look flat.”

Poison checks that all of his belts are in place before walking to the door. “Well, if this mission goes poorly, I don’t want it on my record. Gotta keep up that Party Poison glamour, that unfailing force of nature, you know!”

Fucking hell why is he hot in that ridiculous outfit. And actually intimidating now. Jesus Christ his brain is the enemy. Any moment now Ghoul expects the Phoenix Witch to drop out of the sky and punch him in the nose, killing him instantly. 

“Uh- yeah. But why do _I_ have a costume?” he fiddles with the edges of the jacket.

“Well you're my stunning eye-candy sidekick of course! Hmm, but what name.” Poison taps a finger to his chin, “Oh well! We can come up with that later.”

Ghoul nods, putting the feathery atrocity of a domino mask up to his face.

Poison smiles. “Go time!”

\-------

“Alright Butt Thief, check your six, and there's a tunnel with cameras I cant access coming up soon, so be careful.”

Party Poison runs through the city grid, handmade orange-finder device beeping away in his hands. It shouldn't be hard to find something orange in a pure white city, right?

“Once again, its Ass Burglar. I can't believe the Tang wasn't in their storage, what the fuck. It's in the databases but not on location! Searching all the Scarecrow residential area is going to suck.”

All he gets in return is a “ _You_ suck, Arse Grabber.”

“First of all, no _you_. And secondly, why do I have to be stuck with you and not the much kinder and name-remembering Jet Star?”

Poison ducks into another alley, following the steady beep.

“Well, Bottom Stealer, that would be because Ghoul is probably more afraid of me than he is of Jet, but if you want to make the switch then be my guest,” Kobra’s monotone crackles through his earpiece.

“Yes please, fucking switch rolly chairs with Jet or whatever, I need my favorite brother.”

There's an “Adios, Pouty Poopson” and the distinct sound of rolling chairs before Jet comes onto the line. “Hi there Party! What route you following right now?”

Poison smacks the side of the orange-finder. “You see, politeness, this is why you're my favorite brother. Unlike a certain _snake_! Anyways I'm just following the beeping for now, outside wall in.”

There's the sound of typing and then Jet Star speaks again, “Yeah okay, you might run into Ghoul at some point soon, I was tracking his cameras earlier and he was in this same area.”

Poison nods, switching displays on the orange-finder and turning another corner, running right into Ghoul, full speed. 

They both tumble to the ground, hitting the white pavement hard. Ghoul tries to stand back up, but ends up kneeing Poison in the side and slips back to the ground. 

“Oof, that was the ribs!” Poison laughs and pokes back in the general vicinity of Ghoul’s ribs. 

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry. Uh, please don't kill me.”

Poison sits up quickly, grabbing Ghoul’s arm. “Hey man, you know I was joking right? Earlier?” Ghoul still looks kind of skittish.

“I wasn't actually going to kill you, never was,” Poison pats his arm, awkwardly. 

“Please go back to calling me names and making fun of my pants, you really don't have to be scared, okay?”

Poison hopes he looks kind in that moment, kind and sincere. It seems to work, thankfully, as Ghoul jumps up (without kneeing any ribs), and gives him a small smile.

Kobra breaks up the moment with a “Yeah we've gotta move boys, so wrap this moment up and get going. There's another patrol heading your way from the inner sectors.”

Poison and Ghoul exchange nods, heading in opposite directions of alley.

\--------

“Hey Kobra!”

“Yes, Jet?”

Kobra Kid swivels around to face Jet Star in his rolly chair. The rather dark control room illuminates by the wall of computers. It's just enough light to see the two knocked unconscious dracs slumped against the far wall. 

“I found some peanut butter in the minifridge, would you like it as a peace offering in our little debate?”

Kobra makes grabby hands at the jar, and Jet tosses it over.

“Oh you bastard, this is crunchy isn't it.”

Jet breaks in roarus laughter. “Oh it sure is! If I remember right from before the crash, that's Jif Extra Crunchy!”

Kobra carefully sets the peanut butter on the table before dropping his head in his hands. “Oh my god, the first time we find actual peanut butter in the apocalypse and it's the most crunchy not counting actual peanuts.”

Jet chortles again. “Yup!” he spins in his chair, kicking off the desk and bumping into Kobra’s chair.

Kobra pokes Jet’s nose and turns back to the screens. “We’d better check and make sure they're not- oh shit! Poison is gettin’ chased down!”

\--------

Poison is not having a very good day, no siree. There are 4 dracs on his tail and he heard them call for backup. Shit shit shit.

As soon as Jet and Kobra dropped off coms he was dead in the water. Boom! Dracs outta nowhere.

He hopes Ghoul is alright, wherever he is. That little sunspot is too pretty to die.

“Hey there Seat Snatcher, what's poppin’?” Kobra’s forever monotone once again buzzing in his earpiece.

“Fucking laser blasts is what's popping you little turd!” Poison ducks another and turns a corner, rubber soles skidding, orange-finder beeping louder.

“Oh yes, I see. Hmm. What a predicament you've got there. Take the next right or you'll reach a dead end.”

Poison almost does, but he hears a rather annoyed “ _confiscated orange drink! I hate this job!_ ” come from the window he just passed by. Like a cartoon ‘screech’ he comes to a full stop. He can hear the four-and-maybe-more dracs turning the corner after him.

“Other ‘crows have to file reports on huge diy built desert weapons,” a clank, “and odd artifacts with strange origins,” another clank, “and secret pieces of killjoy propaganda, me, I'm writing a report on confiscated orange drink!” 

Jackpot. Poison pushes open the window, breaking the ledge a little, and jumping inside quickly. There's a very familiar bottle of orange powder on the table. An also very familiar Korse looks up from the table, mouth agape at the sight of The Ass Burglar running toward him.

Poison gives him an ‘ok’ symbol as he runs by, snatches the Tang right off the table, and locates the back window, before jumping out, no time for finesse. 

As he's running he can hear that the four dracs have followed, and promptly trampling Korse's house in their chase. 

“Fucking! Jackpot! Ko-bro get on the line!”

“Hmm? Jeopardy? What was that you said? I seem to have gone deaf.” he can hear that even _Kobra_ is smiling right now. 

“Get Jet on routes, cause we're gonna blow this popsicle stand!”

“Wow, gay.” 

“We're all- just, just get the routes please.”

\------

Party Poison takes a well deserved sip of his juice, leaning against the outside wall of Jet Star’s favorite safehouse. 

Ghoul comes out of the house, sitting on the old rocking chair. “So, was it worth it?”

Poison considers this for a moment, looking out over the desert sands, before answering, “I really do think so. Ass Burglar is over, I can go back to being me, but more importantly, I think I've proven a valuable point here. Nothing is truly lost, even here.”

Ghoul nods. “Yeah, but what does it taste like?”

Poison swirls his drinking glass around. “Well given the quality of water I've mixed the powder into, it tastes like shit. But that's not really the point of it, you know, it's about the idea of it.”

“Okay, great. Can I have some shitjuice too?”

Poison sighs, gesturing for him to go inside the house.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Ass Burglar: The Adventures Of A Rogue Called Poison](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23099038) by [elrohir podfic (elrohir)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrohir/pseuds/elrohir%20podfic)




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